


Stirrings

by haisai_andagii



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Lotura Valentine's 2019, Whump, soft whumpiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 17:25:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17771072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haisai_andagii/pseuds/haisai_andagii
Summary: Lotor decides to train with the Paladins in order to learn more about them and it does not go as planned.  Allura to the rescue...





	Stirrings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sheikav](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheikav/gifts).



> Happy Valentine's Day, Sheikav! I hope you like all this floofiness!

Lotor bends over backward to avoid the Black Paladin's metal fist as it misses the tip of his nose by a space catepillar's hair.  He falls against the floor, rolling away as Shiro pursues with a well-placed axe kick. 

 

But he's no slouch either.  Lotor quickly regains his footing and deflects a volley of punches. 

 

Another swipe, another pivot, another kick, another dodge - a ballet of purposeful movement as he realized Shiro's attempts to push them both toward several raised platforms looming behind them.

 

Lotor inhales deeply, his Galran senses catching the faint scent of salt and mechanical oils.  He smirks as he dodges another strike.   

 

That must be where the Green one is hiding.  

 

She is smallest. 

 

She is the weakest. 

 

She has the least experience. 

 

So, naturally, that makes her the most dangerous.

 

Lotor's back hits the platform's wall and Shiro lunges forward with a roar - his fist raised.

 

A flash of green light catches the corner of Lotor's eye.  He ducks under Shiro's fist, and lunging forward catches him by shoulder with a free arm, before twisting them both around and tossing the paladin like a sack of gorgan roots into its trajectory.  

 

He smiles, thinking his victory secured when he catches Shiro's equally smug look.  The Black Paladin shoots his metal arm out, the grappling hook deflects of its forearm and hits Lotor's in his side, planting itself firmly between a crack on the right side at the bottom of his chest plates.

 

Before he can remove it, a sudden jolt of electricity surges through him causing his knees to buckles from the pain.  His sword clatters to the ground as he clenches his teeth together to keep from screaming.

 

"That's enough, Pidge!" Shiro shouts.

 

A thin tendril of smoke rises from the point of contact.   Slowly, he grits his teeth behind his lips and attempts to raise his arm.  A pain like a thousand tiny teeth of a Ventirian leech burrowing, burning into his side.  He sees the plate is cracked, its edges singed black.

 

"A-are you alright?" he hears Shiro ask above him.  

 

Lotor bites his cheek to keep his composure.  He gently pushes the Black Paladin's hand away.

 

"Well fought..." he manages, keeping his tone even as he rises to his feet.  "I concede."

 

"We got him!" he hears Pidge cheering.  She leaps from her hiding place and envelopes Shiro in a hug. "We kicked his butt!"

 

"Best of three?" offers Shiro as he pats Pidge on the helmet.

 

"I am afraid I will have to pass for now...."

 

Pidge whines as he retreats.  He leaves his sword on the training room floor but he will take his pride with him.

 

Lotor quickly walks back to his quarters, keeping a neutral expression and even gait.  Outside of his quarters, he knows Coran and Lance surveil his every move.

 

He cannot let any of them know he's weak.  Especially not the latter.

 

Once safely behind his own doors, Lotor sits hard on the floor.

 

With a shaky hand, he presses two fingers against blue emblem at the top of his chest plate.  It glows briefly before emitting a faint but audible series of clicks.  With in seconds, pieces of his armor fall into heap at around him.  Slowly, he pulls off his flight suit from his body, hissing sofly as he peels it from his injured side.  He bites the inside of his cheek again as Lotor raises his right arm to examine his wound.

 

He emits a soft growl at sight of a blazing red patch splashed across the top of his ribs.  

 

_Surely, it looks worse than it is..._ he thinks to himself.

 

"Lotor?" a voice calls to him through the door.  "Are you here?"

 

Ice fills his belly.  

 

"I am here, Princess," he calls back, scrambling to his feet.  He nearly leaps half away across the room - his discomfort be damned - as he frantically tries to pull his torn flight suit back on.  "However, I am afraid I'm indisposed at that mom-"

 

The doors swish open before he can finish.

 

He's left standing, feeling the entire fool, as he clutches his suit against his bare chest.

 

Lotor's breath catches in his throat at the sight - an unaccompanied Princess Allura standing in her royal garb. She seems to float into the room as she long, billowing hair and skirts flow gently around her frame like the waters of Luxia.  Her perfume is sweet -  contrary to her annoyed expression as she comes to stand before him, hands on her slender hips.

 

Allura narrows her bright eyes at him.  Lotor feels a knot forming his throat.  She searches his face, ignoring the fact that he is half dressed and that she - a princess of Altea - is completely alone with a Galran prince in his private quarters. 

 

"Pidge informed me that she 'beat you up... That she sent you running to lick your wounds,'"  Allura announces, a slight smile pulling at the corner of her full lips.  "Please, let me see it.  You may need a pod."

 

Lotor complies despite every instinct roaring at him not to.  Her fingertips are soft, warm against his tricep as she helps Lotor raise his arm.

 

"That looks horrible!" she gasps.

 

"It's superficial..." he mutters in protest.

 

"How did this even happen?"

 

"My armor may not be up to parr after the fight with..." he hesitates as the memories flicker across his mind.  "...Zarkon."

 

"Clearly..." she half-whispers in reply.  "It will have to be replaced."

 

He can feel her eyes tracing over his scars.  His body is littered with them, each of them containing a lesson, a story.  Lotor bitterly thinks to himself about the needless fussing over one more.

 

"You won't need the pod," her words break through his reverie.  "But, please, go and sit on the bed.  I have something that may help."

 

He turns, only catching the brief sight of her skirts disappearing between the sliding doors.

 

Reluctantly, Lotor sinks onto the corner his bed.  In less than 30 ticks, Allura is back in his room.  She carries a small, mauve pot in her hands.

 

"It's a healing salve," she explains as she sits beside him.  "My mother's favorite cure-all made from Altean herbs.  Hunk said its similar to an Earth plant called 'ahl-oh.'"  

 

Her hand is on his arm again, rising it as high as it could go.  Lotor bites his lip, swallowing a painful gasp as her delicate fingers begin to rub the salve in small, deliberate circles.  Her sweet floral scent permeates his senses.  He listens to her uncharacteristically soothing voice as she explains her ancient remedy.  He begins to relax, his suit slipping from his grasp and pooling about his waist.

 

And then, it stops all together.  

 

He reopens his eyes as the bed dips and Allura slips into his washroom.  Her touch lingers on his skin - the burning stinging replaced with a cool, soothing sensation.

 

"In a dobosh or two, the salve will turn into a film," she calls to him, over the rush of the water.  "You'll even be able to shower with it, if you like.  It should be begin to peel off in a few vargas."

 

She reappears, offering him a faint smile as she dries her hands with a handkerchief.

 

"Thank you," Lotor replies, rising to his feet.  He takes a step forward, closing the distance between them.  Lotor feels his hands rising towards hers - the tips of his fingers ghosting her honeyed skin, yearning to take her hands into his own.

 

A deep red blush blossoms across her face.

 

He can feel the heat creeping up the column of his throat to the tips of his pointed ears.

 

His nostrils flare slightly as her scent grows even sweeter.  A faint hint of salt as a few beads of sweat gather where her diadem meets her brow...

 

His Galran blood would be a curse and a boon as hunger began to stir in his belly.

 

"C-Coran and the others will be l-looking for me..." she stammers, clutching her handkerchief to her chest as she steps away and out of his reach.  "I-I'll leave you to get dressed..."

 

Reluctantly, Lotor steps aside as she rushes past him.

 

"I-I'll ask one of the men to check on you later..." she adds before slipping through the doors again.  They close, swallowing her up.  

 

Allura is gone.

 

Lotor sighs and sinks back onto the bed.  He feels something bump against his leg and see that Allura's left her salve pot behind.  

 

Gingerly, he takes it into his hands.

 

He brings it to his lips.

 

Another chance to meet again...

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: May have to beta after work today! I didn't want to lose my draft.


End file.
